The Pirate Bride of Port Royal
by BlackJackSilver
Summary: Complete- Lizzie had no trouble surviving her adventures at sea. Can Port Royal endure her return to dry land? Warning! Slight parody, anachronistic caterers, Liz OOC (PG-13 for language, piratey ways, Jack)


I disclaim everything. Disney owns all.

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The Pirate Bride of Port Royal -by BlackJackSilver

In the dining room of the Governor's Mansion, about to finish an early lunch, Weatherby and his only daughter, Elizabeth, discuss her upcoming wedding plans.  
  
"Do Will and I have to get married in church, Father? Couldn't Commodore Norrington marry us on the Dauntless?"  
  
"Elizabeth, considering that you were engaged to the Commodore-"  
  
"Yes, I see your point," Elizabeth studies her plate for a moment. " This is a port! There are always captains and ships!"  
  
"Elizabeth dear, these things have to be planned. You can not expect to fit all the guests on the list aboard the average ship. Then there is sickness to consider. Not all ladies, or gentlemen, for that matter, fare as well as my daughter at sea."  
  
"I suppose you are right, Father."  
  
"Now, my dear Elizabeth, about the dress-"  
  
"Actually I was thinking white satin breeches, with a white silk shirt with a bit of embroidery here at the cuffs and collar, and white leather calfskin boots. Will and I can wear matching swords!"  
  
"Breeches, oh no no, dear, no that would never do! A dress, a wedding dress, like your dear mother wore, only something tight I should think. With a corset?"  
  
"A corset? Father, last time I wore a corset I almost died! I would have if not for a pirate!"  
  
"Er, yes well, Elizabeth, if you are finished eating, it's nearly eleven." Father and daughter both rise from the table. Weatherby touches her shoulder lightly, guiding toward the door. "You need to see to the flowers and the cake, oh, and the caterer. Yes, I think those three things are safe. Will you be taking the carriage?"

"No, it's far too nice a day, Father. The walk will do me good."

"We can discuss the dress, when you have calmed down a bit, dear, tonight perhaps."  
  
"Very well, Father, we have an accord." Liz spits into her hand. Weatherby smiles weakly and and retreats to his study.  
  
Liz hurries off to the baker. He is a middle-aged balding man named Castle, with a bakery on Main Street.  
  
"Good morning Miss Swann! I can't tell you what an honor it is, to be selected to make your wedding cake, Miss Swann."  
  
"Mr. Castle, you are the only baker in Port Royal, are you not?"  
  
"Yes, Miss Swann! Please let me assure you, that fact in no way diminishes the honor of being selected to bake and decorate your wedding cake!"  
  
"-Thank you. Mr. Castle, what I want is an exact replica of the Black Pearl square rigged in full canvas with black marzipan sails! Picture it, the Black Pearl, last great pirate threat in the Caribbean, covered with blackest icing, sailing an angry sea of blue icing! I want waves of icing breaking across her decks while the Black Pearl lists dangerously to the side as if she's about to capsize, which of course she never would with Captain Jack Sparrow at her helm!"  
  
"Miss Swann?"  
  
"Mr. Castle?"  
  
"You say you want a black and blue wedding cake?"  
  
"What's wrong with that?"  
  
"Miss Swann, I've taken the liberty of making a few sketches..."  
  
Blast! An hour later the baker has talked her into a five layer, white, traditional wedding cake, with white icing, in a repeating pattern that the baker swears look like small skull and cross bones, but to her look like bloody silly frilly flowers.  
  
"I'd like them to look as much like scull and crossbones, as possible," she says with as much menace as she can muster at a balding middle-aged baker.  
  
Elizabeth heads next door to Port Royal's only flower shop. The Renquists, an older couple who are the proprietors, say, in a strange rehearsed unison, "Miss Swann! Good afternoon to you."  
  
"Let us just say what an honor it is-" starts Mrs. Renquist. Mr. Renquist finishes "-that we will provide the flowers for your glorious day!"  
  
Elizabeth tries hard to smile. "You're both too kind"  
  
"Tell us Miss Swann," starts Mr. Renquist. Mrs. Renquist finishes, "what sort of flowers do you have in mind?"  
  
"Roses!"  
  
The couple beam at each other and then at Elizabeth.  
  
"Blood red roses dripping, if you will, off great heart shaped wreathes woven entirely from rose bramble with leaves gone but all the thorns in tact! Blood red roses for the bouquet also with lots of lovely thorns so that at some point in the ceremony, Mr. Turner and I can both grab the bouquet, then shake a blood accord. All along the aisle..."  
  
When Elizabeth is finished, both the Renquists are quite pale and speechless ( which, after her experience at the baker, Liz takes as a good sign.)  
  
Next Elizabeth crosses the street to the only Port Royal caterer, the House of Claude. After Mr. Claude, a young and most attractive man, assures Elizabeth that he will not do a substandard job, just because he is the only caterer in Port Royal, and asks what seem like a million questions all about Captain Jack Sparrow, and secures Elizabeth's promise of an introduction, should the pirate show up at her wedding, Mr. Claude, in turn, assures Elizabeth that every food item imaginable could and would be made to look like small ships. More than that, a mast on every ship, would proudly fly a Jolly Roger.  
  
"Mr. Claude, I can not tell you how honored I am, that you have consented to cater my wedding. If I do see Captain Sparrow before the big day, I'll certainly have him stop by THE most interesting shop in Port Royal."  
  
"Oh, Miss Swann, I can see what Mr. Turner sees in you!"  
  
Elizabeth is returning home when an arm reaches out and drags her into a large bush.  
  
"Jack! I'm so happy to see you! What ever are you doing here, in Port Royal?"  
  
"I've got a weddin present fer ya Lizzie!"  
  
"For me, oh you shouldn't have Jack! What is it? Oh no, does this mean you won't be able to make it to the wedding?"  
  
"Wouldn't miss that wedding for the world, love! No, I've got a special reason to give it to ya early."  
  
Jack pats around and finally pulls a three tiered sapphire and diamond necklace out of his sleeve.  
  
"It's old, it's blue, and it's borrowed- borrowed it meself, last ship we plundered. You could say, that since I just gave it to you, it's yer NEW necklace- so that's all four points on the good luck bridal compass covered, love. Jack fastens the necklace around Elizabeth's neck.  
  
Oh thank you, Jack. I do like your logic! That's the problem with Port Royal- everyone is so concerned about fashion and etiquette and propriety and and-"  
  
"-A load of other bloody rubbish?"  
  
"Precisely! No one has any energy left to be logical!"  
  
"About that Lizzie, I hear you are startin to scare the fine township just a wee bit with yer piratey ways."  
  
"Oh Jack, you're not going to scold me too?"  
  
"Never! I do think it might be wise to play things close to the vest, just until the honeymoon."  
  
"But Jack, surely you've heard? My father is paying only for the wedding. The honeymoon, such as it is, is up to Will and I, and right now we simply can't afford to-"  
  
"-But I can. You'll be taking an open ended, all expense paid cruise on the Black Pearl."  
  
"Jack! Are you sure? It would be too wonderful!"  
  
"Anywhere you want to go- well, within reason, or that you can convince me is reasonable when I'm drunk. You won't have ta wear a dress, or sit like a lady, or curl yer little finger when ya eat. One condition, though, you can't do anything nasty to me rum."  
  
They spit and shake.  
  
"Captain Jack Sparrow, will you be my unlawfully united best friend forever and ever?"  
  
"I do, Lizzie!"  
  
"I do too, Jack."  
  
"Gotta be gettin back to the Pearl, need to find food supplies, and I'll not be getting any of those in Port Royal."

"Go to the House of Claude on Main Street. Tell Mr. Claude that Miss Swann sent you. Jack, you will be surprised at how far Mr. Claude will go to help the cause."  
  
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End file.
